


A Crow's Feathers

by Skyeec2



Series: The World of a Crow [12]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8701396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyeec2/pseuds/Skyeec2
Summary: Cloud talks about something at the wrong time, it works out for him anything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by corrupted-spirit over on Tumblr.  
> Corrupted also helped me out with hashing out my ideas for this concept.

Genesis was in his room again. The hunter showed up here more often than not since the night Old Yharnam burned.

Cloud had originally thought that was due to the fact that his friend, Angeal, was currently on an extended mission in Hemwick. But now, he was rethinking that idea.

The hunter was currently lounging on his bed, reading his well-worn leather bound copy of Loveless. A great mass of red leather on Cloud’s plain blankets, Cloud hadn’t had the chance to appreciate the picture that Genesis made.

He looked good.

He shook himself slightly, returning his attention back to the cloak in his hands. A sudden influx of missions had left him with little times to update his feather cloak, meaning he had quite a few feathers to thread into his cloak.

None of those targets had been difficult to eliminate or had any importance to him, so he had been fine with waiting to thread those feathers into his cloak.

It wasn’t a long process though he preferred being able to sit down and take his time with it. He didn’t want to ruin his cloak with an ill-placed feather, then he might be forced to spend days fixing it up.

Genesis’ presence in the room made him slightly anxious, he’d never done anything so important in front of someone who wasn’t another crow.

He heard the rustle of movement as Genesis moved to watch him better, he could feel the weight of the other’s gaze focused on him as he worked.

“What are you doing?” Though the question was quiet it cut through the silence of the room like a shout.

Cloud turned to face the other, seeing him lying on his stomach, his head resting on the palm of one hand. He had left his book up at the head of the bed, safe on the bedside table.

He took a moment to consider the hunter, observing Gen’s focused eyes before lifting the cloak slightly from where it was resting on his lap. Allowing the hunter to see the different segments of dark feathers that had been threaded over the cloak’s base.

Genesis reached out with one of his hands, running his fingers over the shifting feathers layered over the cloak. “We thread feathers into our cloaks for everyone we kill.” He explains quietly, observing the contrast between Genesis’ skin and the dark feathers. “The black feathers are the usually ones we use for normal people.” 

“You mean there are others?” Genesis’ confusion was evident in his words, “I’ve only ever seen the black feathers.”

Cloud made a sound in acknowledgement to the other’s comment, he reached down under his bed and pulled out a plain, wooden box. He placed the box on the bed in front of Genesis, lifting the lid to reveal what lay within.

“Each kind of feather has a different meaning amongst the crows,” He informs the other calmly, watching Genesis lift one of the pure white feathers from where it rested. “It’s difficult for a crow to earn a different feather, so it makes sense that you’ve never seen one before.”

Genesis’ handheld the white feather securely, his finger running across the soft edge of the feather. “I’ve never seen a feather like this,” his voice was awe-tinged and soft, “it’s beautiful.”

Cloud nodded in agreement, “it’s from a white crow.” He ran one of his fingers along the delicate edge, noticing the shiver the action caused in the hunter. He hesitated momentarily before continuing, “We only thread them into our cloaks after surviving a great trial.”

Genesis focused on him, confusion evident in his face. “Oh?”

Cloud grimaced, thinking through what he about to tell the hunter. “White crows aren’t supposed to exist,” he begins to explain, “So we use them to represent that a crow has been forced to do something that we’re unfit for.”

The hunter’s confusion had cleared, replaced with understanding and recognition. “So, things like the consumed…”

“No,” he cut the other off, “if we’re forced to kill a consumed than we thread a feather like this one.” He reaches back into the box and pulls out another feather, this one a mostly black feather segmented by large bands of white along the tip and base of the feather.

He replaces the white feather in Genesis’ hand with the new feather, placing the white feather gently back into the box it came from. “These feathers come from a Magpie bird, these are the ones we use to show that we’re the cause of the death of a consumed.”

The hunter’s confusion had returned, brows drawing together as he thought through what Cloud was implying. “Then…” the unease he felt was clear in his voice, “there’s something worse than a consumed.”

Cloud nodded in confirmation, “When a consumed loses all sense of humanity, they change.” That was a simple way of putting it, but the hunter was still following him so it didn’t matter. “They become little more than the beasts you hunt; mindless, misshapen things with no sense of self or purpose.” Cloud repressed a shudder, thinking about the stories he had been told by his mentor.

Genesis’ face had paled dramatically as Cloud spoke, a naturally reaction to learning about that. He didn’t doubt that the Church had remained silent about that particular side effect, it would look bad for them if word got out about people turning into beasts.

“Crows aren’t trained to deal with beasts like you hunters are,” He decided to answer

Genesis’ original question, seeing that the hunter was too shocked to say anything. “So when we’re forced to deal with something like that, we use the white feathers to show that to other crows.”

He reached for the feather still cradled in Genesis’ hand, picking up the feather and placing it back in the box, he closes it and shifts it over to the side. He returns his gaze to the hunter’s own, “It’s considered a great accomplishment amongst crows.” 

Genesis makes a soft sound in acknowledge, “yes, I can imagine it is.” Concern twists his expression, lacing the tone of his next words “are you even allowed to tell me that?”

It was a valid question; they were usually a close-knit group that kept their ways secret from outsiders. Cloud didn’t care about that too much though; it was a simple question about the feathers. Not something that could be considered dangerous to anyone.

Cloud shrugged as Genesis was still waiting for an answer. The hunter didn’t look convinced, but dropped the subject.

Bright, red hair had fallen into Genesis’ face, covering his deep blue eyes. Reaching his hand up without thought, he moved the curtain back behind Genesis’ pierced ear.

The slight flush on Genesis’ face, made him pause momentarily. The hunter was watching him closely, observing Cloud’s movements.

They had moved closer to each other without Cloud realising. This wasn’t exactly the conversation Cloud had wanted to start _this_ on.

He began to pull back from the hunter, only to be stopped by Genesis himself.

Calloused hands griped his face, pulling him back to the hunter harshly. He lost his balance from the force of the other’s grip, causing their teeth to clack together uncomfortably. 

He took a moment to regain his balance, shifting until he was more comfortably positioned. A contented sound left the hunter’s throat as his hand lifted to caress the other’s cheek.

When they separated moments later, Genesis very much resembled the cat who caught the canary. Cloud barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the other man, connecting their lips together once more.

Genesis had no need to look so smug, Cloud would’ve gotten around to making a move eventually. He just wanted a better time to do it.


End file.
